Glamourie
by Bellanaris
Summary: The summer after fifth year brings about many changes for Harry Potter. When the light of truth forces away the shadows of manipulations and lies, will the Wizarding World still have their hero? Warnings- Slash, AU
1. Revelations

**Glamourie**  
by Bellanaris  
Disclaimer- Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own only the plot.

Summary- The summer after fifth year brings about many changes for Harry Potter. When the light of truth forces away the shadows of manipulations and lies, will the Wizarding World still have their hero?

Warnings- Slash, AU, Minor uses of vulgar language, some violence.  
  
= thoughts  
= parseltongue  
= telepathic thoughts  
  


  
Ch. 1 - Revelations  
_The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple_ - Oscar Wilde 

A dense fog hung low over a moor secluded deep within the countryside of Wales. It shrouded immense castle ruins from the eyes of wizard and muggle alike. Many had searched for this fabled place, seeking the magical treasures rumored to be hidden within its depths. Yet none had returned to tell the tale if they had even managed to find it. Even Lord Voldemort had sent an expedition of Death Eaters, confident his lackeys would succeed where his predecessors had failed numerous times. Of course they had fallen into the same rut as the others: complete and utter failure.

On a normal day, the ruins were eerily silent, but today was far from a normal day. From the bowels of the the ruins in what had once been a dungeon of some magnitude came a deep groan of someone regaining consciousness. Pebbles scattered as a dusty, scraped hand braced against a broken wall, its owner pulling himself up to a sitting position. Blinking in the unrelenting dark, the man flung his hand out, running it over his immediate surroundings before finally grasping a hold of a thin stick.

"Lumos!" A raspy voice cried out in the dark, causing the tip of the wand to illuminate the man and his surroundings. He was a tall, gaunt man, his dusty features bespeaking of better times. His left arm hung at an odd angle, yet he did not pay it any mind, more concerned with his current situation. A rat skittered across his booted foot, and without thought, he viciously kicked it away. The furry rodent slammed against a nearby wall with a sickening crunch, blood smearing across a bas-relief of a serpent imprinted within the weathered stone. Aiming the wand in that direction, his inky-black eyes widened in horrified recognition of the bas-relief.

"Oh fuck! Slytherin! Bloody hell, how did I get here?" He closed his eyes a moment, trying to remember what had happened before he woke up here. With a strangled gasp, the memories returned to him with full force- Harry...his cousin Bellatrix...the Veil in the Department of Mysteries..the Order of the Phoenix...Voldemort...a red flash of light...falling! Oh sweet Merlin, he'd left his godson to the not-so-tender mercies of his insane cousin! He had to get back. The thought of what Harry might suffering at Bellatrix's hands spurred him into motion, and he scrambled to his feet in search of a way out. He ignored the rubble and skeletal remains scattered throughout the ruins, determined to get out.

It took him nearly three and a half hours, but he finally made it outside into the open air. Panting heavily, he dropped onto a broken stone, cradling his broken arm to his chest. The haggard man simply rested in what had been a courtyard in the castle's magnificent and glorious past, resigned to the fact that he would have to walk to Surrey. His animagus form was not an option; a broken limb was a broken limb, no matter what shape or form your body was in at the time. With a deep sigh, he rose to his feet and began to trudge towards the partially destroyed gateway, stumbling over the uneven ground. Suddenly his concentration and the silence was broken by a sweet, musical trill. Blinking in surprise, he looked up towards thse sound, startled to catch sight of a red and gold Phoenix perched atop the broken gate. He stared at the magical bird, a startled half-whisper escaping him before he could stop himself, "Fawkes?"

If he was shocked by the sudden appearence of the Phoenix, he was even more so by the smoky voice that cut through his mind...nearly falling over. Aye, hatchling Padfoot. It is time you came back to the nest. You have been in this evil place too long. There is no sanctuary here for my hatchlings. As the last word resounded in his mind, Fawkes landed on his right shoulder, the golden tip of a wing caressing over the man's dirty cheek. A red and gold haze surrounded them both before they completely disappeared.

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In the back of his mind, Harry Potter couldn't help but realize that the Order of the Phoenix's not-so-subtle and well-meaning warning to Vernon Dursley would not bode well for him once they made it home, and yet he couldn't seem to make himself even care. He'd lost the only person who ever truly cared for the real boy behind the Boy-Who-Lived facade foisted upon him before he'd even known what to do. Life just didn't matter without Sirius anymore, and any punishment meted out by his muggle family was more than justified in his eyes. Quietly he followed his uncle to the waiting car, vaguely taking note of his cousin's presence in the passenger seat.

Silence seemed to permeate the vehicle, a strange occurrence in light of what had occurred at King's Cross. However this was not to last, as Uncle Vernon finally spoke up at they waited for a stoplight to change colors. "Boy, you should have stayed at that freak school this summer. In fact, when we get to the house, you are to write those red-haired freaks and the one with the crazy eye, and persuade them to take you in for the summer. Understood?" Blinking in surprise, Harry nodded and softly murmured his acquiescence before dropping his head back against the leather seat, his emerald eyes drifting briefly towards Dudley. If the look on Dudley's face is anything to go by, they have something planned...vacation or something, and they don't want to take me along..

It wasn't long before the car was pulling into the well-kept driveway of No. 4 Privet Drive, the house looking no different when Harry had last left it. Quietly he slipped out of the car, Hedwig's cage in hand, taking no notice of Dudley slipping out of the car and heading towards the house. Vernon went to the trunk, quickly hauling out Harry's school trunk for the boy to drag inside. Reaching the cupboard, he paused, a slight frown touching his lips as the sight of Dudley hurrying down the stairs with several bits of luggage in his arms.

Uncle Vernon held the door for Dudley, watching his son waddle to the car before looking back at his nephew...something akin to sympathy in his beady eyes. "Don't even bother putting your trunk in there. With any luck, those freaks will be by to pick you up before Petunia gets back. Good-bye, boy...we won't be seeing each other again." Harry blinked in confusion, slowly straightening up as his uncle grabbed two suitcases near the front door and slipped out. Going to the door, he silently watched as Vernon and Dudley stuffed the trunk with their luggage, and then left without a glance back towards No. 4 Privet Drive. What the bloody hell is going on?

Alone in the house, Harry sat in his room, trying to write the letter to the Order as Vernon has explicitly told him. He bit his bottom lip, uncertain how to word it correctly. How am I even going to convince them? Who'd want to take me in anyways? A door slammed below, jarring the raven-haired boy from his thoughts. Then his aunt's familiar voice rang through the house, coming closer with each word. "Harry? Are you here? Harry?" Quickly he tucked his parchment and quill inside the desk drawer before rising to his feet. Opening his bedroom door, he answered her calmly. "Coming, Aunt Petunia..."

Slipping out of the room, he hurried down the stairs and into the parlor. Finally lifting his eyes, his mouth almost dropped open at the sight of his aunt. There she was in the center of the parlor, brushing off a set of royal blue dress robes that matched her eyes. Her blond hair was much longer than the last time he had seen her, and she looked like ten years had been taken off her age. A bright smile touched her lips as she looked over to her nephew. "Welcome home, Harry. You and I have much to talk about..."

Gently Petunia ushered the shocked boy into the kitchen, pushing him onto one of the seats before sitting down herself. She pursed her lips a moment as if trying to decide what to say, her dark blue eyes resting on Harry. Finally she pulled out a light-hued wand, and with a small wave, two steaming mugs of tea appeared before them. Harry nearly knocked his chair to the floor as he leapt to his feet. "A-aunt P-p-petunia! You can do magic?!" He exclaimed rather loudly. A delicate brow arched as amusement flooded her eyes. "Of course I can, dear...surely you didn't think that your mother was the only one, did you? Sit down and I'll explain everything."

She gave him a reassuring smile as he finally resumed his seat, taking a small sip of the tea she'd conjured. "How to begin? Well, for starters...Lily and I were never Evans to begin with. We may be full-blooded sisters, but we are far from muggleborns. The Evans adopted us both at the age of four months, supposedly the only survivors of a horrible fire. We were found hidden in a reed basket, floating in a small pool outside a ravaged manor just as they got the blaze under control. One would think they'd have wondered how we hadn't drowned or who had put us there..." Her voice trailed off briefly as she shook her head slowly, her disgust for the lack of intelligence showing. Shaking her head, she brought her attention back to her silent nephew, "I might as well come out and say it...your mother and I are not even human. And neither are you."


	2. Changes

**Glamourie**  
by Bellanaris  
Disclaimer- Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own only the plot. 

Summary- The summer after fifth year brings about many changes for Harry Potter. When the light of truth forces away the shadows of manipulations and lies, will the Wizarding World still have their hero?

Warnings- Slash, AU, Minor uses of vulgar language, some violence. 

Author's Note - Sorry about not posting this sooner...I thought I had updated this when I did at Forever Fandom, but to my dismay I discovered I hadn't. Please forgive me! Thank you for the good reviews...I'm glad everyone is liking this story so far. I have many ideas for stories at present...so don't be surprised if I start posting another story in between writing chapters for this and Words Left Unsaid. As for the Wiggles, that one is on hiatus for now. My muse doesn't care for it too much. Perhaps when new ideas spark, I'll get back to it.

Anyway...enjoy the story and I'll try to update faster!

* * *

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Chapter 2 - Changes

**  
**

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**

Harry stared at his aunt, not quite sure if he'd heard her correctly. "D-did you say not human?" Petunia smiled gently at him, reaching over to take his hand. "Yes, love, that's what I said. It's hard to take in, I know. Listen, this isn't the best place to reveal all our secrets. The old man will be sending his spies soon, and I'd rather be gone by that time. Go get your trunk, and meet me in the living room." Still in shock, he did as he was told, silently dragging his trunk and Hedwig back downstairs.

By the time he had made it back down to the living room, his aunt was already changed and waiting for him. Instead of the robes, she was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail. An impish grin curved her lips as she waved her wand, his trunk shrinking to the size of a small button. Harry blinked in surprise before picking it up and tucking it in his front pocket. He gave her a tentative smile before following her out to the garage. "Aunt Petunia, how are we getting anywhere? There are anti-apparition wards, and Uncle Vernon and Dudley took the car."

Petunia stopped to look at him, her blue eyes serious. "First, Vernon is not your uncle, just a fat stupid muggle that we are well rid of...second, Dudley is Marge's child, certainly not mine and no relative of yours. Third..." She hit the button on the garage door opener, the door rising to reveal a silver Mitsubishi Eclipse convertible. "...he didn't take the good car." She laughed at the look on Harry's face before grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the car. He had just managed to scramble into his seat and put on his seat belt when Petunia revved the engine and backed out of the driveway. She grinned at her nephew again and put her foot on the gas, speeding out of Privet Drive.

Two hours later, the convertible was the only car on an isolated country road. Its driver glanced over towards the sleeping boy in the passenger seat, a sad smile touching her lips. He was so small and fragile, perhaps 100 lbs at most. An ache settled in her chest at the thought of all Harry had been through in his short life, wishing vainly that she could have changed things. If not for the vow that she had made Tiernan right after the child's birth, Petunia would have taken Harry and left the Dursleys behind years ago. It seemed like only yesterday that she and Lily had found out the truth about their heritage and met their half-brother for the first time. A sigh escaped her lips at the thought of her late brother and sister. **/Oh Ti, Shay...why did you have to leave me? I will protect Harry no matter what...I promise./**

**-------{}-------**

Rays of sunlight peeked through heavy emerald velvet curtains, shining over the face of a sleeping boy. This was no ordinary boy lying in the center of a huge four-poster bed; this was the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. He was delicate and fragile in appearance, his skin pale and unblemished against the dark comforter tucked around him. He stirred slightly before his emerald eyes came into view, sleepily blinking open. A small hand slipped from beneath the comforter to rub at his eyes as he sat up, slowly moving to the edge of the bed.

Glancing around at his surroundings, Harry couldn't help but to like the unfamiliar room. The four-poster bed had sheer green bed curtains pulled to the side, and took up a good portion of the spacious room; it was quite unlike anything he'd ever had experienced. His trunk sat at the end of the bed, the wood gleaming better than it ever had before. Hedwig had her head tucked beneath one snowy white wing, sound asleep on a brand new perch set up near what appeared to be a balcony, though the floor-length curtains made it hard to discern otherwise. Slipping off the bed, he paused a moment to raise his arms over his head, stretching with a feline grace...his toes sinking into the plush carpet. A yawn escaped him as he walked over towards a beautiful mahogany desk set against the opposite wall. Rubbing away the last vestiges of sleep, he picked up a note lying on top of the desk and read it.

**----  
Harry love, **

You fell asleep during the ride here, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. The wards should have kept old Voldie from bothering your dreams last night. In the closet are some new things for you to wear. Perhaps later we can have a little fun starting a bonfire with those rags Vernon dared to call hand-me-downs.

Anyways, take a shower, get dressed, and when you're ready, look for the bell- pull near the head of your bed. When you pull it, someone will come to lead you to me so we can have breakfast and continue our conversation.

Love, Petunia 

P.S. If you happen to notice any physical changes, don't be alarmed. I promise to explain everything when you come down to breakfast. And I never break a promise.

XOXOXOXO  
---- 

Harry smiled and shook his head, setting the note back down on the desk. A twinge of happiness shot through him as he moved towards the closet, still a bit in shock to discover that his family actually cared for him. Opening the closet, the boy giggled at the sight of several pairs of jeans and t-shirts. Quickly choosing an outfit, he bounded towards the adjacent bathroom. The bathroom was even more magnificent than the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, and yet Harry paid it no mind as he got ready for a shower. Over the running water and throughout the house, his soft tenor could be heard singing a wordless song. It took him a mere fifteen minutes to wash, being used to rushing to make way for Vernon and Dudley.

It was as he was walking back into the bedroom with just a pair of jeans on and rubbing a towel through his hair that he passed a mirror. Harry stopped short in surprise as he heard a purr escape the mirror, followed by a comment, "Whoa, baby...you can stand in front of me all day long!" He blinked in surprise, the towel falling from his now limp hand to the floor. His emerald eyes seemed much more bright and vibrant set against his pale skin, skin that gleamed like moonlight reflecting off a lake. There were hints of a blackish green hue throughout the damp raven locks that now brushed just above his slender shoulders.

He stumbled back from the mirror, tripping over his own feet to fall on his ass to the floor. Shaking his head, he braced his hand on the night stand and got to his feet. A frown crossed his face as he realized that his hand had managed to land on his glasses. Suddenly it clicked in his mind; his glasses had been sitting on the night stand...he hadn't been wearing them all morning, and saw perfectly fine without them. **/This had better be one hell of an explanation.../** Visibly shaken, he pulled a black t-shirt over his head and slipped on a pair of leather sandals before pulling the bell-pull.

A small house-elf popped into existence directly in front of him, dropping to a little curtsy. It was dressed in a tiny pink dress and little black shoes. Obviously female, she glanced up at him before stretching out a tiny hand, and speaking in her squeaky little voice, "Good morning, Master. Bella is here to take you to the mistress...take Bella's hand please, Master." Still shaken, Harry reached out and took the tiny hand, only to have his stomach lurch as they were suddenly popped into another room.

"Thank you, Bella...that will be all for now." His aunt's voice rang out across the room, drawing Harry's attention. Petunia was sitting at a small table laden with breakfast dishes, a smile playing on her lips. He waited a moment for his stomach to settle before walking over to join her. But before he could sit in the only other seat, she rose to her feet and enveloped him a close hug. "Good morning, little one." Harry blinked at the endearment, yet hugged her back...giving her a tentative smile before settling onto his seat. "Thank you for the clothes, Aunt Petunia." Petunia chuckled as she sat back onto her own seat. "There's no need to thank me. And for Danu's sake, don't call me Petunia. I've always detested that infernal name. My true name gifted to me by my real parents is Shea Aislinn. But you, my dear nephew, may call me Shea."

Emerald eyes blinked a moment before Harry nodded in agreement, "Okay, Shea it is. Aunt Shea, what is happening to me? And if we're not human, then what are we?" Shea gave him a reassuring smile as she filled his plate with large helpings of food. "You are coming of age, love. Each second closer to the time of your birth, a bit more of the old glamourie fades to reveal the truth." She gave him yet another smile, setting a tall glass of cold milk before him. Harry stared at her for a moment before picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of fried egg.

Each were silent as they ate breakfast, Shea adding more to her nephew's plate before he could finish. He looked up at her in exasperation, shaking his head. "Aunt Shea, there is no way I can eat anymore of this! I'm stuffed. Besides...you never answered my question." Shea set aside her fork, gazing at Harry in a most serious manner. "We are the Tuatha De Danaan. Ours is the line of Esras, the Great Druid of Gorias. For millenia, our family have been the guardians of one of our peoples' four great treasures. It has passed from parent to child, father to son, and mother to daughter. And when you come of age, it will passed to you."

The sound of metal hitting china resounded in the small dining room as Harry's fork slid from his limp fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking, his voice holding a hint of hysteria. "It figures. First I get stuck being the Boy Who Lived. Now I am being told that I will be the guardian for some mystical treasure. Next you'll be telling me that my name isn't Harry James Potter!" Shea looked at him, remaining silent to give him a chance to calm himself. "Well, in all honesty, James Potter was not your father, but rather your uncle. And his birth name was not James Potter, it was Tiernan Edan. His human family named him James, and loved him dearly. They were not aware that he was not theirs. Lily was your real mother...and her true name was Shaylee Edan."

The boy blinked before burying his face in his hands, his slender shoulders trembling. So many questions popped into his mind, but he didn't know which one to ask first. Harry lifted his head to find that his aunt had moved around the table to sit next to him, her arm coming around his slender shoulders. "W-who is my father then? I swear if you say Snape, I'll scream!" Shea's arm tightened around him, drawing the distraught boy into a comforting embrace. "Shaylee wouldn't have touched that snarky bastard with twenty mile long pole, love. Your father is a great man, even if he doesn't remember everything yet. You should be proud to have Sirius Black as a father."

Harry pulled away from her in shock, his emerald eyes wide and the blood draining from his already pale face. "Sirius? Sirius was my father?! Sirius is DEAD, Aunt Shea! DEAD! I killed my own father!" His voice trailed off as he sank to his knees, bursting into silent tears. Shea ran to him and gathered him in her arms, crooning softly into his ear. "You didn't kill him, love. Calm down, and tell me what happened..." Sniffling, the poor boy trembled violently in her arms, clinging to her tightly. "V-voldemort tricked me with a vision. I went to the Department of Mysteries, thinking to save Sirius...but he had already been safe and sound at Headquarters. A-and because of me, h-he came to the Department of Mysteries to save me...and he f-fought Bellatrix Lestrange. S-she knocked him through the Veil with a spell! He's gone forever!"

He began to cry again, but Shea shook him lightly. "The Veil? Harry! This is very important. What spell did she use?" The boy blinked away tears, staring up at his aunt blindly. "I don't know...the light was red though..." Gentle fingers brushed over the boy's cheeks, wiping away tears. "Red, hmm? Probably a stunner. Sirius isn't dead, Harry...just lost. The Veil is a very special gateway, and very few know its secrets. Do not worry anymore...we'll get your father back." Harry stared up at her, searching her face for a long moment before nodding slowly.

"Now, go freshen up, and meet me back here in ten minutes. We need to work on your image a bit, love." Shea gave him an impish grin as she tugged him to his feet. "Once I'm through with you, you'll be the epitome of dashing good looks..." She swatted his bottom lightly, herding him towards the door.


End file.
